


The Heart Wants What It Wants

by bayoublackjack



Series: Love in London [43]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, POV Molly Hooper, Reunions, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-15 07:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5777416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bayoublackjack/pseuds/bayoublackjack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's reappearance in her life after a year leads Molly to question who and what it is that she really wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heart Wants What It Wants

Molly checked her reflection one last time.  She adjusted her frock, a tea-length chiffon dress with a princess silhouette, sweetheart neckline and sequined cap sleeves, fussed with her up do and freshened her lippy.  Once she was satisfied, she let out a content sigh and picked up her bouquet.  The wedding was starting soon and she needed a bit of fresh air to calm her nerves before the ceremony.

Molly glanced down at the engagement ring on her finger.  If someone would have told her a year ago that she’d be planning her wedding, she’d have sworn that they were having a go.  But here she was…Sadie, Sadie the soon to be married lady.

So why were all her instincts telling her to run?

In Molly’s defence, it wasn’t her own nuptials she was thinking of abandoning.  She and Tom hadn’t even set a date for their wedding yet.  No, today was about Joan and John.  They were renewing their vows and having the wedding they had forgone when they first married.  This time, they were having a church ceremony and a big do afterwards to which everyone was invited. 

Truth be told, it wasn’t the wedding itself that had Molly out of sorts.  She was actually looking forward to the reception and everything, but there was one attendee in particular on Molly’s mind.  She closed her eyes and tried to force the image of him at the end of aisle out of her head.  Yet somehow, the harder she tried the clearer the picture became.  There he was standing tall with his dark curls and looking devastating in his morning coat.  His long elegant fingers were outstretched and reaching for her hand.  Bright blue eyes that only saw her.  And a smile on his lips as he said the words, ‘I, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, take thee, Molly Elizabeth Hooper, to be my lawfully wedded wife.’

Molly groaned angrily and opened her eyes.  She’d curse herself but she was in a church.  It didn’t count if she just thought it though, right?  Better safe than sorry she figured as she pushed her way outside into the garden.  The fresh air did wonders for her nerves if not for her mood.  Feeling free of god’s wrath, Molly silently chastised herself.  She was an engaged woman.  It was Tom she should be thinking about and up until a few days ago it was Tom she only had eyes for.  Then Sherlock returned to London and everything went to hell.

Molly found a quiet bench and sat down, dropping her bouquet next to her.  It was a nice day out.  A perfect day for a wedding.  Joan and John deserved their happy ending after all they had been through.  Sherlock’s death and resurrection.  Moriarty.

Molly stared at the ring of her finger again, turning it so that the diamond was perfected centred.  Sometimes, before she could help herself, she wondered how different her life would have been if Moriarty had left them all alone.  Sherlock wouldn’t haven left London.  He wouldn’t have pushed her away.  It could have been him that…

Molly exhaled sharply and pulled her hand away from her ring.  “Get a hold of yourself!” she scolded.  “We’ve moved on.  We don’t love him anymore.  We love Tom.  You can’t love two people at once!”

‘Martha might beg to differ,’ her thoughts, which sounded suspiciously like Tish, insisted.  ‘She was engaged and still fell in love with John.  It’s the same thing.  Even their names are the same!  You chuck one Tom, you chuck them all.  Everyone knows it’s Sherlock you want!’

“Hush!”  Molly shrieked more loudly than she intended.  She quickly covered her mouth and looked around.  All she needed was to be caught yelling at herself outside of a church.  If all else failed, maybe she could beg the vicar for an exorcism.  She needed to cleanse herself of the demons of relationships past.

Molly closed her eyes, took another breath and reached inside herself to find some hidden reservoir of strength.  After a silent mantra which was mainly composed of Emma Bunton lyrics, she opened her eyes.  “Now I’m imagining him being here as well?” she asked the image of Sherlock that stood before her.  She swatted him away like he was a pesky fly and made contact with his arm.  “You’re real?”  Her eyes went a bit wide as she rose to her feet.  “Oh my god!”

“Not quite,” he responded.

Molly felt her cheeks grow warm.  “How much did you hear?”

“‘Hush,’” Sherlock quoted.

A small bit of tension left Molly’s body at the knowledge that he hadn’t heard any of the bits about love.  She tore her eyes away from his.  It was always easier to think when she wasn’t looking directly at him.  Those blue eyes might as well have been an abyss because she always seemed to get lost in them.

“I suppose congratulations are in order.”

Molly focused on her ring.  “Yes.  His name is Tom.  We met though friends.  Through Tish actually.”  She glanced upward again and caught his gaze.  “We’ve having lots of sex,” she added suddenly.  “Not with Tish!  Tom and I, I mean,” she clarified frantically.  “Although she never seems to be in short supply.”  Sherlock’s brow furrowed and Molly immediately felt like an idiot.  Why did she have to ramble so much?

“You look well,” Sherlock said.

“So do you,” Molly replied.  There was slight lull in conversation during which time she tried to think of what to say.   After a year, she would have thought there would have been so much to talk about and yet all she could think of was the reason he left to begin with.  “Sherlock said that Moriarty is in jail.  You caught her.”

“She surrendered.”

"Why would she do something like that?” Molly questioned.

“Why indeed.”

If Moriarty willingly allowed herself to be incarcerated, something told Molly that it was only because she had a way out whenever she wanted.  The thought of that alone made Molly uneasy.  “She wouldn’t…not _here…not_ today?”

“It’s best not to presume where Moriarty is concerned,” he advised.

“I suppose,” Molly conceded with a frown.  “Even so, it’d be a shame to ruin the day.”

“Would it?”

“Of course!  It’s their wedding day.”

“They’re already married,” Sherlock shot back dismissively.

“Yes, but they never had a proper ceremony.”

“Two people, who were already living together, signed a document making official their desire to continue living together and now, after a brief sojourn, they have elected to have a belated party to commemorate their decision to carry on living together.”

Molly pursed her lips together.  “Well I think it’s romantic,” she declared defiantly.  Her eyes went back to her engagement ring.  “I should be so lucky.”

Sherlock’s tone softened a touch.  “Have you set a date?”

“No,” she answered quietly.  “I’m still…”

“Still?” he replied beseechingly.

Molly met his eyes.  “I’m still sorting through some things.”

Sherlock looked at her curiously.  It was a look she had seen him give so many times before so she knew without thinking that he was reading her.  What he saw, however, was a mystery.  Could he see the truth?  Could he tell how conflicted his return was making her feel?  Did he feel it as well?  Did he feel anything at all?

Before she could get any answers, someone cleared their throat off to the side.  Molly turned to see Martha standing near the door, wearing a knee-length red chiffon dress with V-neck that complimented the one Molly had on.  “It’s time,” Martha said tersely.

Molly nodded her acknowledgement to her best friend before returning her gaze to Sherlock.  “I should go.”  She turned to leave.

“Molly…” Sherlock called to her.

She glanced over her shoulder expectantly.  “Yes?”

Sherlock nodded towards the bench.  “Your bouquet,” he said simply before turning and walking in the opposite direction without another word.

Molly exhaled sharply as she watched him go.  She bent down to retrieve her bouquet, the sunshine catching her ring in the process, and then turned to join Martha.  As she came closer, she noticed the look on Martha’s face.  It too was one that Molly had seen several times before.  “Don’t say it,” she requested as she brushed past Martha.

The wedding couldn’t start soon enough as far as Molly was concerned.  She needed a stiff drink and a chat with a vicar.


End file.
